Within these pages

For Eden, books, particularly stories, hold memories. Precious moments caught between the pages. And there is one place that she keeps these memories: the library. Join Eden on her journey of remembrance.


1. Discovery

The old, wooden door creaked as I cautiously pushed it open. It was an obscure door, all on its own , hidden by the cabinets, full of exotic and strange things, that lined the walls of the corridor.  My Uncle was a traveller, an explorer of unchartered areas. he had been all over the world and always brought back souvenirs: a hunting knife from the South African Tribes, deep in the jungle; a piece of volcanic rock from Mount Fuji; the skull of a dodo from Central American; and many more unusual objects that I could not name. Each one carried many memories for him. He liked nothing more than re-telling these stories to anyone who would listen. I knew he probably exaggerated greatly on some counts, but I didn't mind.

He was happy when he was re-living these memories, not dwelling on the more recent, painful memories of the deaths, eight years old but still as raw as the day they happened.

I preferred to keep my memories private. That way, nobody could see me at my most vulnerable. The past was not a weakness to be exploited.

I traced the carvings on the wood of the door: "Quod non totum libris consilia essent." It was Latin for "Good books don't give up all their secrets at once.” I knew it by feel alone, the amount of times I had traced those letters, committing to memory their message. Leaves and vines twined round the letters, making it a thing of beauty. Reluctantly, I let my fingers move away, and stepped into the room beyond.

It was dark inside. The only light was a little moonlight filtering through the windows.


I jumped at the sudden loud noise. My heart pounded, my pulse raced, at the thought of being discovered.


There it was again! I stayed stock still, waiting for movement from outside.


Wait a minute! It was too regular to be footsteps. I heaved a sigh of relief, as I caught sight of the old grandfather clock hidden in the shadows. My posture sagged as I relaxed and I let out a breath a hadn't realized I had been holding. I was so tense tonight!

The clock 'bong'ed nine more times. 12 mournful chimes that echoed in the stillness.




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